Shifting Perceptions
by Hahukum Konn
Summary: Sirius Black and Severus Snape have never had any common ground. Or did they? AU fic, Marauder Era
1. Prologue: Dumbledore's Office

**Shifting Perceptions**  
Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This work of fan-fiction is not intended for personal profit. All characters utilized herein which are not creations of myself belong to J. K. Rowling.

III

July 10, 1972

Horace Slughorn sat in Albus Dumbledore's office, ruminating over what he'd seen every now and then in his Potions classes as well as elsewhere in Hogwarts. The Headmaster, meanwhile, was serenely contemplating him over his eyeglasses as he absently crunched on a sherbet lemon.

Abruptly, Dumbledore seemed to come to himself, swallowed the sherbet lemon, and spoke.

"My apologies, Horace. I seem to be a little too fond of these candies. What has you up here, away from your usual summer soirées? I seem to recall that you were quite pleased to have given Blenheim Stalk a hand in getting his book published."

The affable Head of Slytherin smiled, saying, "Yes. I had a fine dinner with him just the other day. However, this is the first occasion where you and I have both been able to get some free time. You remember that for the last two weeks you, Minerva, myself and the other professors were busy sorting out the budget allocations, and Heaven knows I've been calling in enough favours this year to get enough ingredients for next term. This leads me to what I've got to ask you to do: Call off Sirius Black and Severus Snape."

To his credit, the Headmaster's expression shifted from vague appreciation to outright concern. "What's wrong, Horace?"

"They've been wasting Potions ingredients exploding each others' cauldrons and exposing other students to unnecessary risk by attempting to sabotage each others' work. This is going to get out of hand if the years keep rolling on as they have been for this year, Albus. At least once a week in Potions classes I've seen the two of them trying to have a go at each other, and when it isn't Black and Snape doing it, it's James Potter and Snape.

"Honestly, I think Black eggs on Potter a bit, but in any case when those boys get started, they've been disruptive to my class on more than one occasion and I've had to give Potter, Black and Snape detentions at times, sometimes separately, sometimes together. One rather memorable occasion ensued when young Severus, apparently a bit on edge, threw rat tails into Potter's Forgetfulness Potion, which would have reacted violently with the fwooper feathers had Lily Evans not had the presence of mind to alert me to it in time so I could cast a stasis spell over the cauldron. Even as I did that, a hexing battle ensued in which all three boys ended up needing to go to the infirmary before I could Disarm them and reprimand them.

"I've noticed that Potter and Black have Lupin and Pettigrew as friends, but the other boys don't seem to be naturally assertive and I can't count on them to safely restrain Potter and Black. I _need_ you to deal with this, Albus. This could be a serious problem!"

Albus Dumbledore sighed, leaned back in his chair, and cast his gaze off at something only he seemed to be able to see. After a few moments, he seemed to refocus on Horace, and said, "I am forced to admit that I have not been the best at keeping as close an eye on students as I probably should. I will admit that I am aware of these… activities, but I rather put it down to the usual schoolboy rivalries that sometimes work themselves out, much as with myself and some of the less-than-friendly people I went to school with here."

Horace scratched his jaw, considering Dumbledore's words, and replied, "Ordinarily, I might agree with you. I know when I went here I got into the occasional hexing battle, but this… whatever it is, Albus, between Black, Potter and Snape makes me nervous. There's an unholy glee they all take in going after each other, especially in Black's expression when I've caught him hexing young Severus in the hallways. It doesn't help that I have that Prefect, Lucius Malfoy, who's gone and taken young Severus under his wing. The Potters and Malfoys have never been on the best of terms, you know.

"What it boils down to is this: in the interests of keeping the peace, would you _please_ sit those two boys down and tell them enough is enough? If nothing else I'll have more peace in my Potions classes this upcoming year. And if you have to, discuss the matter with young Potter as well, please."

Dumbledore sighed, saying, "I believe you may be making a bit much out of first-year rivalries, Horace, but I shall at least look into the matter. Would that satisfy you?"

Horace heaved himself off the chair, not for the first time wondering if he ought to research a Weight Loss Potion, but, as usual dismissed the idea, deciding he liked his food too much (and didn't like the idea of cold sweats, headaches, and other side effects he didn't feel like reciting in his head). He said, "Very well. But I strongly urge you to find a way for those boys to get along – there's something_ unhealthy_ about this particular rivalry and I didn't get where I was in Slytherin without being unobservant, Albus."

Dumbledore's eyes seemed to twinkle as he grinned. "That I also have to concede, Horace. Good day, then."

"Mm-hmm," said Horace absently as he trudged out the office door, and went past the gargoyles to speak briefly with Madam Pomfrey about brewing the basic first-aid potions for the upcoming year.

III

Meanwhile, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts for fifteen years, sat back and wondered if he was already losing his touch. He wondered why Minerva McGonagall hadn't also brought these concerns to his attention, but allowed that the last twenty-five years had actually been a very quiet period for Hogwarts; Grindelwald _(Oh, Gellert, why?)_ had been defeated, but that was Europe; the Muggle World War Two had had limited impact on the wizarding world. Although the effects were less impressive in wizarding Britain than in Muggle Britain as far as the era went, the 1950s and 1960s saw a period of steady expansion in commerce and education; children came and went, fought, loved, kissed, got detentions and so on. Only the distant rumblings of the man calling himself Lord Voldemort portended any kind of trouble, and as it was, the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Law Enforcement, recently taken over by Bartemius Crouch, seemed to have the situation in hand, so far.

So maybe they were all being lulled into a dangerous level of complacency. Maybe it _would_ be a good idea to at least visit his Pensieve, and consider the few incidents he recalled among those five boys Horace Slughorn had indicated. After all, he knew well that the reason for one of them even being allowed at Hogwarts had to do with an incredible level of risk he was taking – and as potential Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot (as rumour had it), Albus ruminated on the irony of _that_ degree of law-breaking with respect to one Remus Lupin.

He stood over the Pensieve, and began concentrating on memories of the boys in question…

oOoOo

Albus remembered this occasion. It was December, and the first major winter storm had just passed. The enchanted ceiling showed a clear blue sky, tinged that peculiarly cold shade of blue that indicated wintertime.

His memory-self sat at the High Table, casting his eye over the early-morning crowd on Saturday. He stood near the entry doors, and watched as students trickled in, noting Lily Evans from Gryffindor, Bellatrix Black from Slytherin, and others. However, his attention was drawn when he saw the hook-nosed Severus Snape entering, only to whip around when Sirius Black deliberately shouldered his way past, muttering, "shove off, Snivellus."

_Snivellus?_ When did they – or Sirius Black, at any rate – tag the boy with such a name? Albus remembered, with some depressing familiarity, how his friend Elphias had been rather the butt of jokes when they were students.

The memory, however, was continuing to unfold. James Potter barely noticed Snape except to glare at the boy, while Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew brought up the rear. Remus seemed to have an undefinable aura about him, as though he felt he ought to do something, but wasn't sure what. Peter Pettigrew, for his part, just rushed to the Gryffindor table to sit across from James.

Meanwhile, Severus scowled at the foursome, then trudged his way over to the Slytherin table to sit next to Lucius Malfoy. The aristocratic prefect smiled at young Severus, but from what Albus knew of some Slytherin tendencies, Lucius had more in mind that just benevolence. All too soon it was clear what the quid pro quo was.

"Severus, what was that excellent curse you told us about the other day, and used on Black over there?"

Brightly, the boy perked up and began eagerly rattling on about what he'd read in the Prince library when his grandparents weren't home, and Lucius was clearly listening with half an ear, noting the curses but otherwise doing little to show genuine friendship or mentorship.

Albus decided to have a word with Horace regarding Lucius's cultivation of the younger Slytherins, and whether or not that had something to do with Abraxas Malfoy's alleged courting of the shadowy "Knights of Walpurgis". It seemed young Lucius was courting allies for some longer-range plan.

On that note, with an effort, Albus took himself out of that memory, and switched to another…

oOoOo

Memory-Dumbledore was walking down the third floor corridor, humming to himself on, if memory served, a Monday afternoon in October. Albus smiled as he thought about how comforting the almost-droning bumblebee-like sound was, but a flicker out the corner of his eye caught his attention, and noticed it was through the half-open door of a study room far down the hall. While memory-Albus paused to converse with a painting, observer-Albus rushed past several doors to the room, where he saw that Minerva McGonagall was chewing out James Potter and Sirius Black, while Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew seemed determined to try and shrink into the walls.

Her sharp, ringing voice echoed through the classroom. "… thoughtless! Robes can be easily cleaned, granted, but do you boys really think putting multicoloured spots all over young Severus Snape's robes for a bit of sport after my Transfiguration class ended was _necessary_? Especially when I could tell from his looks that he didn't seem to think it was funny at all!"

Young Potter and Black seemed a bit mutinous as Minerva took a breath, then thundered, "That will be twenty points from Gryffindor, and you four have a detention with me after classes tomorrow!"

She glanced sharply around at the four boys, then briskly walked out the door and, apparently not noticing memory-Albus some ways down the corridor, headed off in another direction.

Just before Albus had to be ejected from this memory in order to see the next one, he saw James Potter shrug resentfully and say, "Well, it was only _Snivellus_, for Merlin's sake…"

oOoOo

The last memory, was, as Albus recalled, when he was standing in his office, peering through his telescope. His memory-self was observing the Broom Flying lessons for first-years in mid-September, as he wanted to see the flying instructor's technique. Since he couldn't hear the boys talking, he could only push himself through the telescope as though he were approaching the grounds by portkey, and watch as the schoolchildren silently interacted.

Sirius Black, hovering about six feet up in the air along with James Potter, was nudging James as young Severus seemed to float up somewhat erratically on his broom. The flying instructor had her back turned, apparently coaching a young Muggleborn Gryffindor student on how to properly straddle a broom. Albus saw Sirius point his wand, and say a word, which he could swear was 'Impedimenta'. The hex caught Severus unawares, and as the boy glared at Black and Potter, he overbalanced and tumbled off his broom. Albus instinctively tried to catch the boy, but at the last minute had to stop, realising it was a memory. Luckily the boy had only risen four feet off the ground, and the grass was apparently fairly spongy. Still, the boy winced as he pushed himself off the ground, but was rendered unable to exact his own revenge as the flying instructor had turned around, facing all the students.

III

Albus steadied himself at the Pensieve after having pushed himself out of that scene, and paused to consider his own memories.

Fawkes, apparently sensing something was not quite right, trilled soothingly and swished his tail. Albus sat behind his desk and wondered if what he had seen could just be isolated incidents. Boys would, after all, be boys. Even Elphias had seemed to understand, though his rather whispery voice opened him (Albus thought) to some rather unfair ridicule.

But… he couldn't help but think of that demeaning name ("Snivellus," indeed), and the way James Potter had dismissed his childish prank because of that.

Blast it all, though! Albus had prided himself on his incisive, searching quest for knowledge and his keen observance of all things around him – how else had he managed to defeat Gellert Grindelwald when the latter man was the one who held the legendary Elder Wand? Memory threatened to overcome him as he saw the battle, once again, in his mind's eye. Shaking himself slightly, Albus wondered if he owed Horace Slughorn, as embarrassing as it was to admit it, a word of thanks.

Could he really have got so out of touch in just twenty-five years since the defeat of Grindelwald?

* * *

Author Notes:

I got this idea after discussions with several people over the way events before Harry was born seem to have reverberated into the "present-day" of the books, and so this is technically AU in the sense that Dumbledore and Slughorn never had this chat in the JKR-books. :)

In particular I'd like to thank **excessivelyperky** for her thoughts and comments on this chapter and on the ideas behind this fic.


	2. Letters and Changes

**Shifting Perceptions**  
Chapter 2

Disclaimer: This work of fan-fiction is not intended for personal profit. All characters utilized herein which are not creations of myself belong to J. K. Rowling.

III

July 15, 1972

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office, sipping his tea. It was midmorning, and he snapped open his copy of the _Daily Prophet_. Although it was not much discussed, the paper _did_ have a slight pro-Ministry stance, so it was often wise to compare to the human-interest columns in _Witch Weekly_ and the various Quidditch-related periodicals.

An item caught his attention, as it could mean difficulties for the Muggleborns.

**GRINGOTTS TO ABANDON FIXED EXCHANGE RATES?**

Breck Wahl, Special Correspondent

_Spokesgoblin Rockcrush for Gringotts Bank included in the usual weekly financial announcements an item of some interest to the wizarding community. Background material was included for those who, as the spokesgoblin said, "care to see past the end of their noses."_

_It reads: 'Gringotts Bank have, for reasons relating to the need to interact on occasion with the Muggle banking system, made a point of it to keep track of Muggle currencies. For the last twenty years, Muggle currencies have been on a fixed-exchange-rate regime with respect to one another. This, in turn, means Gringotts have fixed the rate of the Galleon to the UK Pound Sterling to be exactly one Galleon to one pound. The UK Pound Sterling is fixed at one pound to one Muggle Irish punt, meaning one Galleon also equals one punt. This recognises that the economic circumstances of the British wizarding and Muggle worlds have been somewhat similar over the last quarter century._

_Now, however, Muggle nations are beginning to loosen the restrictions on exchange rates with one another, which means Gringotts Bank, in turn, as controllers of the value of wizarding currency, must decide whether to abandon the twenty-year-old fixed rate of the Galleon against the pound.'_

_Spokesgoblin Rockcrush, in a hasty interview with this reporter, stated, "Most likely, as a compromise measure, Gringotts will set a new exchange rate every three months. I expect we will probably go to one Galleon being equal to one and a half UK Pounds Sterling by October. This interview is now over."_

Dumbledore made a note to see how the scholarship fund for indigent Muggleborns was holding up, since some would no doubt need spending money in the Muggle world; the exchange rate shift would make it more expensive for them to bring Muggle currency into the wizarding world. He folded the _Prophet_ back up, and then decided to get around to something he should have done long ago. After extracting a parchment and a self-inking quill from a drawer in his desk, he began writing.

_Dear Gellert,_

_It has been years since I wrote you last. You may recall the letter I wrote you before, in which I described briefly a young man named Tom Riddle, who I firmly believe is one and the same with the individual whispered to be 'Lord Voldemort'._

_As you may surmise, Gellert, being familiar with the European languages, 'vol de mort' may mean either 'flight from death', or 'theft of death'. Either is a rather troublesome meaning, given that I have kept my ear close to the ground these intervening twenty-plus years – admittedly largely a time of peace and prosperity, marred by the occasional violent crime, but an era which I feel is coming to a close._

_In any case, you recall that in the last letter I had described the young man's quest for a Defence Against the Dark Arts position, which I was not inclined to grant, and the verbal fencing we both undertook, as even then he had his team of 'Death Eaters', or as some term them, the 'Knights of Walpurgis'. Though I knew some of the names of those involved, all the better with which to rattle young Tom's self-assurance, in reality the group seems somewhat amorphous and hard to pin down exactly. But I have my sources of information, for bartenders hear much and say little._

_I am writing to get your thoughts on some recent events. I cannot help but feel that the rise of Lord Voldemort, with the recent uptick in violent crimes against some wizards and witches, is intimately bound up with the current generation of students passing through Hogwarts. Though Divination has never been a specialty of mine, my old friend Horace Slughorn, seems to feel that schoolboy rivalries could well spill over into the broader wizarding world._

_You know, as do I, why I find that some matters simply do not avail themselves well of discussion between any two people except those who perceive each other as true intellectual equals. For all that I shut you up in Nurmengard and relieved you of the Elder Wand, I have never once lost sight of the fact that... that we seemed to know each other too well, even years after... _the _event._

_I would not mind your evaluation as to whether I may be overreacting to the notion that three squabbling first-year boys who hex each other at least once a week could loom large in the wizarding world within the next decade. Two are pure-blood sons of wealthy families, and in the Gryffindor house, while the third is in Slytherin, a half-blood, and while not actually a scholarship student like young Tom Riddle was, he has already shown evidence of advanced knowledge of curses and hexes which would be somewhat inconsistent with his poorer background, being a scion of the Princes, whose family fortune is all but gone._

_The above having been said, __boys were boys when I was in school, no doubt when you were in school, and so on _ad infinitum_. But Horace has his misgivings and it would be impolitic of me to ignore them.  
_

_I would also like to know if you wish me to send more parchment or literature. I imagine some of the old books are quite worn-out by now._

_Albus Dumbledore_.

The aged Headmaster stared at the letter, which in retrospect seemed to be almost a free-associative spew of his thoughts and uncertainties about the future. Sighing at the effect Gellert Grindelwald still seemed to have on him, all these years later, he inscribed the familiar triangle underneath his name. After folding the letter up, he took it to the Owlery, noting that fewer owls than usual seemed to be present. He approached a nondescript school owl and tied the letter to its claw. He whispered into its ear, "to Nurmengard."

The owl looked at him askance, then hooted and took flight.

III

Minerva McGonagall nodded with satisfaction as the last of the stack of first through seventh year Hogwarts letters went out (the Muggleborns were always contacted on their eleventh birthdays and warned to prepare for the letter from Hogwarts). There had been a bit of a delay, given that the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher couldn't seem to decide (until it was almost too late) which textbook to set for the courses for each year.

As the flurry of school owls escaped the Deputy Headmistress's office, she took a moment to consult her magically-updated appointments book. She lifted her eyebrow as she saw the message, "Appointment with Headmaster". Albus must have sent a note by Floo.

Indeed, when Minerva looked over at the Floo grate, she saw that a note from Albus, enchanted to duplicate itself to her appointment book, indicated he would like to meet with her at the earliest convenience, which, apparently, was right now. The password for the week was "butterscotch toffee".

She tapped her wand to her appointment book, indicating that she was off to attend the meeting, then set off for the Headmaster's office.

At the gargoyle, she spoke the password and waited as it moved aside, then sprang up the stairs to knock at the Headmaster's door, which opened a few seconds later.

Dumbledore sat at the large desk, writing on some parchment. He looked up, smiled, and said, "Hello, Minerva. Have a seat. I just have to send the latest request for the Ministry's budgetary contribution and attach my acknowledgment of the final OWL results."

Even as he spoke, Albus was nearly finished, and a scribbled "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore" later, the parchment rolled itself up and seated itself in the "Out" tray.

From past experience, Minerva knew a house-elf would empty the tray and take care of having the official correspondence sent to the Ministry of Magic.

Dumbledore plucked a sherbet lemon out of the bowl next to him, popped it in his mouth, and began chewing. After a few seconds, he spoke carefully around the candy. "Minerva, I asked you here to inquire as to why you haven't brought something to my attention. Horace came to my office a few days ago, mentioning to me that two of your Gryffindors, in particular, have been in altercations with a particular Slytherin boy."

Realisation dawned on Minerva as she recalled the several occasions she had issued detentions to young Potter and Black. "You would be referring to James Potter, Sirius Black, and their tagalongs Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew in connection with young Severus Snape?"

"Yes. I'm not entirely sure if Horace is overstating the case, but he seems to feel that the schoolboy rivalry we're dealing with here may have greater implications than just bad feelings for some time."

Minerva sat up straight and said, "I would like to have kept matters in-House, and I know that, to some extent, boys will be boys. I _have_ punished them on occasion, so is there any reason to suspect they might continue misbehaving?"

"Well, let us consider for a moment. How academically proficient are these young men?"

Without really meaning to, Minerva spoke more volubly than she intended. "My word! I've yet to see more accomplished Transfiguration students in their year. Mr Potter and Mr Black seem to have an almost intuitive feel for the subject, and I've yet to find fault with young Mr Lupin's essays! Even Mr Pettigrew turns in a solid effort. I don't know that Mr Snape has any particular facility with Transfiguration, but I can't recall reprimanding him; then again I don't know that he has turned in anything I would call consistently 'Outstanding'."

"I think I see the crux of the problem, Minerva. Your natural instinct to praise the highest achievers probably sends an inconsistent message, seeing as you are Head of House for Gryffindor. I think I will have to take the matter into my own hands and make it clear that these boys hexing each other every week is becoming a danger to other students."

Minerva, in exasperation, said, "I can't very well _stop_ praising students who do well, for Merlin's sake! One would think that if I levy a detention and the loss of house points, that I mean business regardless of what I do in class!"

Albus nodded. "I have seen similar situations with some of Horace's favoured Slytherins, who would tend to go their own way even if reprimanded by him. I daresay we all seem to adopt our 'favourites', and they tend to pick up on this. I think it will help if I add my weight to this situation, metaphorically speaking."

Minerva made another exasperated noise in her throat. She thought for a moment and said, "Alas, I do have to admit young James can be a bit of a charmer, in his own way. I may have let myself be influenced a bit in class because of it."

Dumbledore simply stood up and said, "We are all human, Minerva. In any case, have the letters for the firsts through sevenths gone out?"

"Yes. I keep wondering if perhaps I should stagger the deliveries, because this many owls going out in daytime could be a possible risk to the Secrecy laws."

"We have gone this long without issue. However, if you stagger the deliveries, I suggest you do it by last name, rather than by year. This way, siblings won't be upset."

Minerva thought it over and decided it wasn't that bad of an idea. She headed for the door and said, "Perhaps next year, Albus. In the meantime, I might go to Hogsmeade for a bit."

Albus approached her at the door, holding an envelope. "Oh! That reminds me. Please drop this off in the owl post office? Whoever is there will know how to handle it."

Minerva looked at the envelope, a bit perplexed. Nothing seemed to be written on it. "An empty envelope, Albus?"

He smiled slightly. "Hardly. It is simply charmed to only appear to certain people. I cannot say more about it. I normally do such things myself, but it occurs to me that as you are going, I would save myself the trip."

"Very well. Good day to you."

"And to you, also."

Minerva McGonagall shook her head in amusement as she descended the stairs to pass the gargoyle, thinking that Albus Dumbledore's reputation for genius and slight oddity at the same time was well-deserved.

* * *

Author Note:

Thanks go again to **excessivelyperky** for her thoughts on this chapter. I have made a technical correction based on duj's review, which makes more sense as it would simplify matters to get all the Hogwarts letters done in one shot and send them out.

Also, I've noticed that my review section seems to be a bit of a battleground for people. I'd like to encourage people to use my forums for this instead.


	3. School and a Meeting

**Shifting Perceptions**  
Chapter 3

Disclaimer: This work of fan-fiction is not intended for personal profit. All characters utilized herein which are not creations of myself belong to J. K. Rowling or Mike Krahulik and Jerry Holkins.

III

July 25, 1972

The owl Albus had sent off to Nurmengard returned with a letter.

_Albus,_

_You have some nerve leaving me to moulder away here in Nurmengard without so much as a hello-how-are-you for over ten years, and then go dump your problems on me for lack of anyone else to talk to! Flattery will get you nowhere, with all those fine words about being an intellectual equal and all that._

_I'm still the one who was defeated __in__ 1945._

There were several splotches on the parchment before the next line began.

_You know, I actually _tried_ not to write any more, and see if I could hold out long enough to make you worry about me and send another owl._

_But I couldn't._

_I've read and re-read all the volumes in this damned cell of mine (even that Muggle set of the __Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire__!) to the point where I'm _dreaming_ about the stupid things._

_You really know how to conduct the game of deprivation of contact quite well, Albus. I didn't think you had it in you. The house-elves are hardly fit for decent conversation, with their "we is only too happy to be serving you oatmeal for the ten thousandth day in a row" level of understanding. Heaven forfend I should start speaking in that broken English grammar!_

_As for your current problems with this upstart Dark Lord and what you think is a tenuous connection to your students at Hogwarts, let me put it plainly: _I_ think it _is_ unreasonably tenuous. That having been said, keeping strictly to your Hogwarts troubles, I know you do tend to favour the underdog, Albus, but I am surprised you care at all, given what House the wronged boy was Sorted to. Even in those days when I was in your country I recall hearing an apparently very old refrain about how Slytherins might just pack up and leave, because their Founder went and did the same thing and it might actually be good riddance. I would hardly be surprised to hear different today._

_Another point: in Durmstrang it was common for bored, rich purebloods to make targets of the scholarship boys. We had no Muggleborn, of course! After all, it is the nature of boys to laugh at differences so minute one may as well consider them wholly negligible. Does it much matter now that I had clean robes every day, with a fine new trunk and my very own Gregorovitch wand? But in those days of my youth, it was so very important! Bah. Youth are destined to repeat the mistakes of us old men._

_As for what I want? Send the back numbers of those transfiguration and alchemy rags you read. At least I'll learn something, even if you wouldn't dare trust me with another wand, never mind the Elder Wand. And parchment. If I'm to be writing back and forth with you,__ you coul__d at least send parchment. And self-inking quills. I'm amazed the ink bottle I used for this letter hasn't dried up irrecoverably by now._

_Gellert Grindelwald_.

III

September 1, 1972

James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew were all ensconced in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. They seated themselves comfortably, and as the train began moving, James said, "You got here just in the nick of time, Pete. Did your mother keep you late?"

Peter grimaced. "Yeah. We had trouble with London traffic. You're lucky; your parents can just Floo you wherever."

James and Sirius both grinned. Sirius said, "What do you call those moving carriages again? Cars?"

Peter nodded.

"Right. If you think those cars are trouble, mate, you haven't seen my mother bellowing at Regulus and me every ten minutes about standing up straight and acting 'like proper pure-blood children, even if one of you is a Gryffindor.'"

Sirius's mouth twisted at that last, and Remus said, "Hard luck there, mate. My mum's feeling better, said she was glad I turned in a good first year and I'd better keep bringing home the Outstandings and Exceeds Expectations for this year. We got here with plenty of time to spare, too, since we Flooed into the Leaky Cauldron and had a bit of morning tea, then just walked over to King's Cross."

The boys bantered back and forth for the next while, to cease only when the food cart rumbled past and the lady said, "Hello, dears. Anything off the cart for you today?"

Some Galleons changed hands and a small pile of chocolate frogs, acid pops, Every-Flavour Beans and the like made their way to Sirius's impromptu table made from his trunk. He snickered and said, "My mum would be furious if she knew this trunk she spent all that money on was being used for a snack table. Go on, eat up."

Just as Sirius bit the head off a chocolate frog, their compartment door opened. Regulus Black and Severus Snape were standing in the doorway, and Sirius sneered. "Ugh. I just lost my appetite. Why're you with _him_… _Reggie_?"

Regulus's face flushed as he yelled, "Don't call me that!"

James looked over at Snape. He sneered, "I don't remember putting up a sign saying 'grease welcome into this compartment', by the way."

Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You watch what you say, Potter!"

"Are you actually telling me what to do, Snivellus?" James asked in mock shock.

"Go tell your hair to get cleaned up, you slimeball," Sirius snarled at Snape.

Regulus said, "I've _had_ it! Come on, Severus, let's go find Bellatrix and Narcissa instead!"

Sirius barked a laugh, saying, "Go then, Reggie, run off to our snooty cousins. And take greaseball with you."

Snape's face flushed red as the foursome in the compartment laughed, and as he and Regulus stormed off, he slammed the compartment door with slightly more force than necessary.

Sirius growled, "Ugh. There'll be a Black that goes straight to Slytherin, for sure."

James replied, "Forget _him_. We've got some candies to finish, don't we?"

The incident was fairly quickly forgotten, and before long, James and Sirius were playing white to Remus and Peter's black on Remus's grandfather's wizard chessboard.

III

Albus Dumbledore oversaw a very ordinary Sorting, as Hogwarts Sortings went ("Black, Regulus" went to Slytherin, in counterpoint to his brother Sirius). As the last student went to the Hufflepuff table, he rose and said, "And now, I would like to say a few words: Querulous! Recalcitrant! Twisp! Catsby!"

Enjoying the befuddled looks on many of the students' faces, he sat and dug in to the ham, vegetables and potatoes set on the plate before him. Even the teachers seemed a bit puzzled.

The first two words had been called forth thanks to that letter from Gellert. He had had ample time to consider the fact that while Gellert was hardly the type to sympathise with half-bloods, he _had_ made a rather excellent point about the hypocrisy of championing the underdog and failing to notice the ongoing bias regarding Slytherin House.

In fairness, Slytherins had been Head Boys in the past, but Tom Riddle having got Head Boy did put a bit of an unwelcome association on the job every time he'd dealt with future Slytherin Head Boys, the latest being Lucius Malfoy, who got the position just this year. Horace Slughorn had, of course, been overjoyed that one of his Slug Club favourites got the job. Still, it was apparent that he needed to do a better job of, as the Muggles always said, "walking the walk" as well as "talking the talk".

He felt the boys he would be dealing with would indeed be querulous and recalcitrant in his planned session after the meal and announcements.

The last two words were called to mind by a penny arcade Albus had once seen in Muggle London just before the Second World War broke out, and he'd spoken them in a fit of whimsy.

After dinner ended, the start of term announcements were taken with the usual amount of groaning regarding the growing list of banned Zonko's products. Albus finished with, "and please be aware that we have a new Whomping Willow which is growing rapidly. Any attempts to disturb it may result in the tree harming you."

The students began getting up off the benches and filing out of the Great Hall to go to their respective House dormitories.

Albus rose out of his chair, nodded briefly at Minerva and Horace, then proceeded to his office, humming to himself as the gargoyle silently moved aside. He entered and smiled at Fawkes, who chirruped in response and swished his tail a bit.

Deciding that the best way to accomplish his task would be to act as non-dotty as possible, he arranged his papers into neat piles and swept the bowl of sherbet lemons into a drawer. He deliberately set the Truth-Tester on his desk, an admittedly somewhat unreliable device, but one that looked quite impressive. It was a clear cylinder, about a foot tall, with runes carved on the crystal that made up the cylinder. The device was set on a square base which had more runes carved on it.

What remained was to see how well the Truth-Tester would work. It was supposed to turn red every time someone in the room told a lie. That having been said, it didn't know how to tell a white lie from a big lie… but at least he could have it only react to the boys in question.

The first guest of the evening was Horace Slughorn, trailed by a wary-looking Severus Snape. As this was the first time Albus had seen the boy in close quarters, he reached out with surface Legilimency, only to be rebuffed by an as-yet imperfect Occlumency shield. If he pressed forth, he would no doubt glean information from the boy, but at the cost of giving young Severus a headache. To cover his surprise at a student having this skill – and for what reason could he have learned it? – he beamed at Horace, saying, "Excellent. Thank you for bringing Mr Snape here. I will escort him personally to the dungeons."

Horace nodded, saying, "Thank you. For meaning it." He locked gazes with Albus, sending a quick signal: _I was surprised you decided to actually call this conference. _A wry expression crossed Horace's face as he continued with _now my classroom will be safe!_

Albus cast back _I had some good advice._

Slughorn nodded, and turned to leave. Albus realized the timing was slightly awkward as he heard the man's booming voice. "Minerva! A pleasure to see you. And I see this is young Potter and Black, hmm?"

Some murmurs, then, "Behave yourselves in Potions, hmm? Well, I'll be on my way then."

Shortly after, Minerva McGonagall entered, primly escorting James Potter and Sirius Black into the room. Albus had decided to leave Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew out of it for now.

"Thank you, Minerva. I will escort these boys back to the Tower later."

She nodded and left the room.

A glance in young Potter's eyes depressed him. Severus was eyeing Sirius and James with distaste, and the expression was returned by the latter two boys, though they did all occasionally glance at the Headmaster. As this state of affairs continued, Albus quickly gleaned the unfortunate events of that day on the Hogwarts Express and mentally cursed at thinking he could have got away with this meeting being so early. But had it been later, would it have been any better? Probably not.

Deciding to cut the tension, Albus said, "Boys, take seats on the chairs in front of my desk. This device—" He pointed at the Truth-Tester with a flourish of his hand as he resumed his seat behind his desk, surreptitiously flicking his wand to raise the chair just a bit and make him seem more imposing "—is a Truth-Tester. It will turn red if _any_ lie is told in this room. I have had some disturbing reports regarding your first year here, and if I am to nip it in the bud, I must ask that you three be truthful in all particulars. Are you clear on this?"

His gaze flicked from boy to boy as they each nodded, albeit a bit resentfully.

"Good. Mr Snape, I am given to understand that these two boys have been hexing you on several occasions without there being any fault of your own in these encounters, as well as calling you names."

Severus replied, with a hint of a Manchester accent under the affected pure-blood tones that Albus was sure had been inculcated by his Prince guardians, "They have! Last year they tried hexing me off my broom at Flying Lessons, and then every time after that I couldn't go a flying class without dodging Black's spells!"

Sirius yelled, "Oh, come on, Sni—uh, Snape! What about the time you tried splashing that Shrinking Potion on my head? Or when you came up behind me after Charms just before classes let out for the summer and nearly broke my ankle with a Sticking Charm on my feet while I was walking? You're a _menace!_"

James butted in, saying, "And what about the time after Transfiguration in May you made boils appear all over—" Abruptly he halted and flushed, clearly not wanting to admit where those boils had appeared.

Albus smoothly said, "I take it, Mr Potter, that you would have found it uncomfortable to sit down for a time?"

Face still flushed in embarrassment, James nodded.

"Well. In any case, in the litany of complaints you three appear to be preparing against each other, I note that the Truth-Tester has not yet turned red. Am I to take it that there have been _far_ more of these incidents? And that, if you three wish to be honest with me, some of these incidents could have seriously harmed either one of you three or perhaps even other students? Horace has mentioned several Potions class incidents to me, and I've no doubt that a cauldron explosion could have caused serious harm."

He looked over his eyeglasses, putting his best severe expression on his face, causing each of the three boys to cast his gaze down uncertainly. The Truth-Tester remained clear.

"Very well. This ends here, and it ends tonight. I am not expecting you three to become friends by any stretch of the imagination, but I am telling you that as far as your squabbling and arguing, this. Must. Stop." For good measure, Albus let some of his magic out, impressing upon each student the importance of what he was saying.

"In addition, I have it on good authority that Mr Potter and Mr Black, you have tagged young Mr Snape with a most unattractive nickname which I will not repeat in the interests of maintaining his dignity. I have advised Professor McGonagall that should she hear it in her presence, she is to take points from Gryffindor at once. Similar instructions hold for the other professors for which you three have classes together."

James and Sirius had the good grace to look abashed, and Albus's Legilimency confirmed that they at least regretted what they had done. Would that regret translate into better behaviour in the future? No one could tell.

"Mr Potter, I have a few things to say to Mr Black and Mr Snape in private. Please wait outside by the gargoyle."

When James seemed to take his time getting out of his chair, Albus reflected that in almost any other circumstance his willingness to stick by his friend would be considered admirable, but at this moment… "_Now_, Mr Potter."

James left with alacrity.

Albus turned to Sirius Black and Severus Snape. While he could only imperfectly read Severus's emotions, it was clear that the loathing and dislike was the strongest between these two, rather than between James and Severus.

"It has become clear to me that it is the interactions between you two in particular that give the most cause for concern. I will say again, that whatever enmity that is between you two must stop. It is not necessary that you be friends to appreciate that you two may actually have more in common than you might care to admit."

At Sirius Black's particularly mulish expression, surface Legilimency showed a surge of emotion. Delving a bit deeper (safer as young Black was not an Occlumens), it was clear that the images associated with the emotion centered around Sirius Black's reflexive dislike of Dark Arts because of his parents, and by proxy, Severus Snape's apparently open embrace of such.

Sighing internally, Albus forged ahead.

"Will you two at least agree to keep a peace between each other? Mr Black, Mr Snape's circumstances do not yield to you the right to call him names or to hex him when unprovoked. Mr Snape, you do not have the right to take 'pre-emptive action' whenever you feel like it."

The two boys said, grudgingly, "All right."

The Truth-Tester turned a deep red.

Shocked, the boys' wide eyes flew to Dumbledore as he smiled thinly. It was not the smile of amiability; it was the smile of a man who knows when someone else has been caught out very neatly. "Boys, I warned you. This device can tell your insincerity, and your expressions at seeing it just now have told me everything. Now, _sincerely_, accept a truce between you!"

Sirius got out of his chair and licked his lips. He scuffed his foot nervously, and said, "All right. Snape, this one's really true."

He extended his hand.

Warily, Severus got out of his own chair, and said, "The Truth-Tester didn't go red that time, so I guess for once I can trust you, Black. This one's really true, too."

Hesitantly, Severus extended his hand and briefly clasped Sirius's. They shook exactly once, then released each other's hands and, to Albus's private amusement, each boy tried to subtly wipe the offending hand on an inconspicuous area of his robe.

"As the Truth-Tester has stayed clear, I believe you boys are sincere. Now, remember. Your activities will be monitored. I have no intention of letting my staff continue to have to deal with your antics without my knowledge. There are rules in this school, and one of them, I might note, is that there is to be no magic in the hallways for the express reason that students have devices – that is, their wands – which allow them to attempt to settle disputes in ways which are decidedly dangerous. Considering the number of times you have broken that rule, I should by rights be removing House points even though they cannot be removed retroactively to change last school year's standings. I note this would put Gryffindor and Slytherin both well behind Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff for the House Cup before classes have even started."

Severus's face went particularly white, while Sirius's Adam's Apple moved as he swallowed.

"However, I shall stay my hand. But be aware that behaviour _does_ have consequences. Now, I shall escort you all back to your respective dormitories."

With Snape and Black in tow, Albus picked up James Potter at the gargoyle, and the three boys trailed him like ducklings after their parent. James and Sirius went into Gryffindor Tower without a further word after Albus used his Headmaster's password to open the painting of the Fat Lady.

After some moments, well away from Gryffindor Tower, Severus piped up. "You don't exactly trust me, do you?"

Surprised, Albus said, "And whatever makes you think that, young man? All students can be considered essentially trustworthy, I should think, unless a situation arises like yours now. But merely because you have had arguments with other students leading to breaking the rules by hexing in the hallways does not mean that you are fundamentally a bad person."

"It's not that. It's something else."

"I believe you are forgetting yourself, Mr Snape."

"Fine. It's something else, _Headmaster_."

Albus stopped walking, and peered down his crooked nose at young Snape. "You should have a care as to how you address your elders, Mr Snape. While I am not quite as persnickety as, perhaps, Professor McGonagall, I might note that levelling an accusation is not exactly the epitome of politeness, and compounding it by refusing the honorific is not a good way to begin."

Severus just stared for a moment, then averted his gaze and began walking again. They walked in silence from then on until they reached the Slytherin dorrmitories. Again, Albus used his Headmaster's password to offer Severus entrance past the nondescript wall marked only by a strategically located piece of moss.

On the way back to the Headmaster's office, Albus couldn't help but admit that Severus Snape had a fairly keenly developed instinct. Albus had said nothing about the boy's mental defences, hadn't even attempted to probe them again after that first instance, yet somehow the boy had divined that Albus had noticed something unusual about him.

Perhaps it would be good to follow up with a chat with the new Head Boy after the first meeting of the year with the Prefects and Head Boy and Girl. Where else would (or perhaps could) young Severus have learned Occlumency but from the expansive libraries and connections of one Lucius Malfoy?

* * *

Author Notes:

Thanks go again to **excessivelyperky** for discussions on this chapter, and thanks to **Maddevillechilde** for some quick Britpicking. Also, I'd like to credit **Sellea**'s Distant Memories fic for inspiring some of the 'flavor' of the dialog on the Hogwarts Express between James Potter, Sirius Black and Severus Snape.

Incidentally, a note regarding timelines. A bit of fudging on the dates can lead to Lucius beginning his attendance at Hogwarts in 1966 rather than 1965, which means his terminating year would not be the 1971/72 school year but 1972/1973. I chose to adopt this for plot purposes. Another note. For the purposes of possible future events (which I have obviously put into a state of flux with this AU ;) ) Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin are both half-bloods, but Peter's mother is more closely involved with her son's life and she's used to Muggle transport methods.

The inside joke mentioned prior to this edit is the fact that I mention Twisp and Catsby, which are two characters from the Penny Arcade comics. :)


	4. Motives of Malfoys

**Shifting Perceptions**  
Chapter 4

Disclaimer: This work of fan-fiction is not intended for personal profit. All characters utilized herein which are not creations of myself belong to J. K. Rowling.

III

September 2, 1972

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office with the Head Boy, Lucius Malfoy, and the Head Girl, Amelia Bones. They had entered his office just a few moments before and he took the time to note the contrasts and similarities between the Slytherin and the Hufflepuff as they seated themselves in two comfortable chintz chairs, while he was at his usual place behind his desk.

Young Lucius still had a bit of a pinched, pointy look about his face due to his nose, but was beginning to show the signs of growing into the young man he already legally was. He showed a reserve that was calculated for effect, but usually achieved the desired goal of making people take him more seriously than if he acted the usual awkward teenager. Amelia Bones' facial expression, however, was more open, but she did not display the over-exuberance one Head Girl had a few years ago, practically bubbling over in her enthusiasm for the job. Miss Bones also sat in a poised manner, reminiscent of some of the Aurors he knew, such as Alastor Moody.

In fact, if he recalled correctly, Miss Bones had indicated a strong desire to go into the Auror program. With hard work, she would no doubt end up as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and from there, if she wished it, she could springboard into the office of Minister for Magic, since she would be an unofficial successor-in-waiting. Her performance as Head of DMLE would heavily influence the Wizengamot should she put her name forward some time in the future.

And as for Mr Malfoy, no doubt he would continue the family business. The Malfoys had many sprawling connections throughout the continental European pure-blood community as well as within magical Britain. Rumours had gone around some years before as to how Abraxas had suddenly magnified the family fortunes after the Soviet Ministry of Magic, in concert with its Muggle equivalent, had declared all pure-bloods as "counter-revolutionaries" (as in Britain, the distribution of wealth of magical Russia and its immediate neighbours was hopelessly lopsided) and targeted them for either expulsion or "re-education".

Of course, not all the pure-bloods in that realm waited for the formal announcement, and had taken everything they could out of the country. Abraxas was right there, ready to assist - for, of course, an immodest fee, smoothing the way for resettlement of their ranches of magical beings, their businesses and so on. The unlucky pure-bloods who had not left with such alacrity found their wealth confiscated and redistributed to Muggleborns; at least the magical Soviet government was a little more "socialist" in that respect than its Muggle equivalent.

Lucius would be expected to maintain those connections and draw upon them if needed. Albus wondered if the young man would not be more inclined to live off the returns. He was already courting Narcissa Black, who was clearly smitten with Lucius, and Albus, as loath as he was to think too far in the direction of the physical looks of his students, was forced to admit that Lucius had the kind of appearance that could turn peoples' heads. Gellert, though, had been livelier, somehow.

Albus turned away from thoughts of the past with almost a physical shake.

"Thank you both for coming to my office today," he said, "I realise it is a bit of an imposition when on Saturday I'm sure you would rather be catching up with your friends. Would either of you care for some tea?"

Both Lucius and Amelia nodded. As it turned out, Lucius took his tea the traditional way, with some cream and sugar, while Amelia took hers black, with sugar only. Albus poured himself some out of the elegant pot, which piped a small burst of steam after he set it down. He then indicated his bowl of sherbet lemons and said, "Feel free to have a sherbet lemon afterwards."

He noted that Lucius was holding his cup as though he were in a formal gathering with the Minister for Magic, grasping the handle with his left hand, while his right hand steadied it as though he and the cup were a statue. Amelia held her cup with a more casual air, but still steadying it with her left hand as her right hand held it through the handle.

Albus took a sip, and then began.

"I would like to cover the duties expected of you as Head students. You may have already read through the information packet sent with your Hogwarts letter, but I would like to take up a few details now."

One thing Albus knew about Legilimency was that it was easier to do if he could call forth associations and memories by certain word triggers, and he proceeded now.

"The first item of note is that you need to be as impartial as possible to all students in all Houses. You have been chosen to represent the best of Hogwarts of your year. In some respects the position of Head Boy or Girl is as much a political statement as it is a statement of a student's abilities. What you do will reflect on your House as well as on you personally."

The images that flickered across Lucius' surface thoughts showed an already-pronounced dislike of the Muggleborn students; indeed the red-headed Lily Evans had been tinged with a distinct emotion of distaste for her skill, linked to Horace Slughorn's effusive praise of her Potions. Also linked in with this was some suspicion of Severus Snape for his readiness to partner with her, but beyond that Albus dared not probe without activating any Occlumency Lucius might have learned. If he probed deeper, better to wait until the end when Lucius would be bored and wanting to leave.

"Second, the younger students will regard you as role models. You should endeavour at all times to display the proper behaviour Hogwarts expects of students, such as no untoward displays in the hallways, no use of magic in the hallways, and so on. The rules you were asked to follow and enforce as Prefects still hold for you now and more so, even, as I have already mentioned that how you comport yourselves reflects on more than just each of you personally. You should assist younger students, but not neglect your own studies and duties as you do so."

As Albus specifically mentioned younger students, Lucius's hand quavered the tiniest bit, and the images called forth seemed to show Severus Snape in some detail. None of the emotions called forth were of the inappropriate kinds, for which Albus was thankful, but it was clear that Lucius had mercenary motives that seemed to centre on the Prince libraries. Repeatedly, images of Lucius gaining Severus's trust showed as the older boy would praise the younger for his spell-work, while demonstrating a particularly effective one to be used on the foursome of boys from Gryffindor.

One odd thing stood out, in that none of the images Albus saw as he gleaned them from Lucius's eyes showed Lucius himself cursing or hexing James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin or Peter Pettigrew. Albus also noted that none of the images showed Lucius specifically teaching Severus Occlumency. With these two pieces of information juxtaposed, now was the time to begin being purposely boring.

Albus rattled on in detail, feeling a bit sorry for Amelia Bones as she seemed anxious to leave, knowing she had already read everything he had decided to highlight from the Head Student's Handbook. It didn't hurt that some surface Legilimency showed Lucius indeed becoming bored and a bit contemptuous of the 'old man'. It was always wise to be underestimated, especially as no-one must know that he now held the Elder Wand.

As he wrapped up the tedium almost twenty minutes later, Albus took his chance and probed a little deeper as he continued to speak, noting that Lucius's tea was half-way finished and Amelia was almost done. He sipped from his own cup, and added, "Finally, if you should have any problems, rest assured my door is always open. I want Head students to know they have the backing of Hogwarts' faculty and, of course, its Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress. So, to summarise, comport yourselves appropriately, be as even-handed as possible without hint of favouritism, and reflect the best of all that is a Hogwarts student."

Amelia Bones looked distinctly relieved as the finality in his tone indicated he was well and truly finished, while Lucius set his teacup on the saucer and politely placed it on the desk. He took stock of his deeper probe of Lucius' mind. Oddly, it seemed the young man barely knew of Occlumency at all, having only seen it as a theoretical exercise in disciplining the mind.

Albus withdrew as subtly as he entered, and noticed neither student had any questions.

"Well, then," he concluded, "Thank you for coming. I shall not keep you any longer, and you may go about your usual activities, except that you will need to patrol at your discretion to enforce curfew and other such school rules. Good-bye and good luck."

He perfunctorily shook hands with Lucius and Amelia, then escorted them to the doorway out to the moving stairs. He retreated back to his desk, looked at Fawkes, and mused that Severus Snape could not have learned Occlumency from Lucius Malfoy.

_So where did the boy acquire even passing proficiency at it?_

III

Severus Snape scowled at the Charms work that he was trying to touch up for handing in on Monday. It had been assigned as summer homework, apparently a usual practice with the exception of the gap between fifth and sixth years.

He was in the library on a Saturday with his second-year Charms text (_Intermediate Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling) open in front of him along with a supplementary reference he had heard Lucius mention, called _Working On Wand-Waving_, by a man named Hogan Thistlethwaite. Lucius had laid a tiny – very tiny, to be sure – stress on the name, as though it portended hidden treasures ahead. Maybe Lucius hadn't meant any such thing, though. Severus, however, had become a bit of an expert (or so he thought) at divining one's intentions from tone. He had learned well from his own father, since banished into long-term convalescence after mysteriously falling from a high stairwell at work, and his Prince relatives, who barely tolerated his half-bloodedness. So that name might still bear watching.

The supplementary text was full of boring instructions on why it was important to follow rules for general categories of spells (example: the 'swish-and-flick' needed for a Levitation Charm), but aside from that it did not reveal any exotic forbidden secrets or Dark spells of any kind. Severus re-read the question, which ran, "Describe the Charms you have learned in your first year and, using a textbook or your own ideas, classify them appropriately."

Severus had, initially, attempted his own classification, but upon seeing Thistlethwaite's book, realised the man made more sense. He then promptly busied himself with trying to rescue the week's worth of work he had put into the initial penning of said essay (or 'quilling', he supposed he ought to say).

But the notion of attempting his own ideas and classifications stuck with him, and he wondered if maybe Potions would be more amenable to not treading ground someone else had already gone over. Flitwick no doubt expected his Ravenclaws to effectively and efficiently classify the spells on their own, while the rest of the Houses would be a mixed bag of using the standard second-year text's classifications (which were not as detailed and as clear as Thistlethwaite's) or haphazardly applying their own.

_Well,_ he thought_, he was a Slytherin and blasted if he'd make like a Ravenclaw who would no doubt insist that _his _way had to be superior to the textbook's, just_ because.

Even as he thought this and began re-working the essay, Madam Pince's sharp "_Hsst!_" resounded through the library and an appropriately abashed James Potter smiled at the librarian, then tugged his friend Sirius Black along with him. Severus groaned mentally, wishing that he had chosen a library table in the far corner so as to be less observable. Unfortunately, as it was, he was seated at a table near the entry doors and would soon be seen by the pair, which did happen.

Severus was sure that his poorly-suppressed expression of distaste mirrored that of Potter's and Black's as they approached his table to stand across from him, their backs to Madam Pince some thirty feet or more away, at her usual place, sternly examining a stack of books and briefly waving her wand over each one. The table separated him from the other two, thankfully.

James Potter said, "Snape."

"Potter. You know what Dumbledore said."

Potter nodded and said, "Sirius told me last night. Look, I wanted to say, well, that is—"

Annoyed, Severus spat, "Well, say whatever it is in that flobberworm's excuse for a brain of yours and leave me alone."

Potter's face coloured a little, but the boy controlled his tones as he continued. "Look, will you shake my hand too? I want you to know I'll stay clear of you as well as Sirius will."

And as James actually extended his hand, Severus nearly blurted out what went through his mind: "_Well, I'll be dipped in—_". It had been a crude expression he'd heard a mate of his father's use, a man who worked at the mill as well.

Luckily, he recovered himself and simply stood, walked partway round the table, and extended his own hand. Icily, he said, "Very well then. I'll shake, and I'll want you two to not annoy me. All right?"

Potter nodded, and Severus grasped the boy's hand, shook exactly once, and then resolved to find a strong cleaning charm on general principle.

True to their word, the boys departed, making for a different section of the library and utterly ignoring hm.

Severus exhaled, letting out a breath he had not realised he had been holding, and re-seated himself. At that moment, Lucius Malfoy, his Head Boy badge glistening noticeably on the part of a robe where a Wizengamot member would keep his or her judicial W, seated himself with perfect urbanity and placed his book on the table. He looked at Severus and asked, "Are Potter and Black bothering you again? I may have a good hex in this book to show you."

Severus shook his head and said, "Dumbledore's orders. We're not to go round attacking each other anymore or he'll take off House points. Lots."

Lucius' voice, to Severus's practiced ears, gained that slight quaver which meant he was really interested in something, just like with that Thistlethwaite Charms book.

"That will be all to the better, then. More time to study the things that _really_ matter in our world, Severus. Since I see that you are busy, come see me tomorrow."

Lucius nodded and left, the perfect picture of a Slytherin Head Boy. But why did Lucius care a bit more than he seemed to about what Severus got up to with those Gryffindors? Was he _disappointed_ that Dumbledore had told them to behave?

* * *

Author Note:

Thanks go to **Maddevillechilde** for Britpicking and **excessivelyperky** for having a look at this. :) Concrit is always appreciated, as well. :)


End file.
